Home
by Kitsilver
Summary: Dorcas. When all is said and done, the best part of a journey is making it back home.


12-16-07

Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem.

Home

Dorcas slowed to a stop in front of the small cottage at the village edge. He had been running since dawn a few hours past, and traveling hard for ten days before that, but it was worth it. He was home. The cottage looked trim and neat with its thatch roof and log walls. Tidy rows of green shoots poked from the dark soil of the garden. Chickens pecked at seeds in the dirt while goats cropped the grass. Flowers waved from a chipped blue vase perched on the window sill. After eleven months and sixteen days, he was home.

After catching his breath, he made his way to the front door while smoothing the spray of flowers in his hand. Violet primrose, lilac corydalis, pink daphne, white dogwood, and cheerful yellow buttercup. They were still fresh and dusted his fingers with pollen. He'd picked them that morning from meadows beside the mountain roads, knowing that they were her favorite.

The door opened from inside and he froze, his breath catching when he saw who stepped outside. She adjusted her hold on a large basket of laundry and flipped long brown hair over one shoulder. Disheveled and sleepy, with a smattering of flour on one cheek, she was the loveliest thing he had ever seen.

"Natalie," he whispered. She looked up, eyes going wide when they met his. She mouthed his name, then she yelled it, dropping the basket and running to him as fast as her leg would allow. He gave a loud whoop and caught her in his arms, lifting her up high and swinging her round and round. She laughed, big brown eyes shining, light and love and joy in his arms. He lowered her to the ground slowly, pressing kisses to her lips, cheeks, brow, whispering her name like a prayer again and again. She laughed again but softly, and her eyes crinkled in a smile as she looped her arms around his neck.

"Welcome home, husband."

"Natalie…" He rested his forehead against hers. "I missed you so."

"I missed you, too." Smooth hands stroked his bristly cheeks. He closed his eyes and leaned into her hand, breathing in the smell of rosemary and fresh bread.

"I have something for you," he said.

"Hmm?" She was smiling, he could hear it in her voice.

"It's right here. I…" He paused, frowning, at the sight of his empty hands. Wasn't he just holding them? Then he realized he must have dropped them in his haste to reach his wife. Heat rose to his face and he looked around, certain that they were nearby. When flowers didn't magically reappear he scowled and went to his hands and knees, searching the grass and brush at his feet. He looked up at the sound of a choked laugh and narrowed his eyes at the wide-eyed innocence on his wife's face. His expression must have been amusing because she burst out laughing, and he had to smile even as he rolled his eyes and kept on looking. After a moment he found the wayward blooms hidden behind a bush and dusted them off, handing them to his wife with a triumphant grin.

Her eyes lit up and she smiled, burying her face in the fragrant blossoms. He couldn't resist tilting her chin up and kissing the gold flecks of pollen that decorated her nose. She grabbed his nape when he would have pulled away and drew his lips down to hers.

"Thank you," she said, the husky note in her voice making his skin tingle. Then she took his hand and led him to the door. "Now come, I know there's someone else you've been waiting to see."

He hefted the basket and followed her inside, dropping it beside the door while she placed the flowers in a wooden vase on the central table. The familiar smell of baking bread and rosemary, along with mint and sage drying over the hearth, filled his nose. A small fire burned brightly to ward off the chill morning air. The bare wooden floor was covered by a large red rug, woven with simple designs of black and brown. It was tidy and comfortable, just as he remembered.

Natalie returned and took his hand in hers, weaving her fingers through his as they entered the room to their left. And then for the second time that day, Dorcas felt his breath stop, suffused with wonder at the sight of his two small daughters sleeping in the bed. Their wide smiles and mischievous brown eyes had stayed with him in the long months that he'd been gone, but there were so many little things he'd somehow forgotten. Gently he touched their chubby white cheeks, brushed the reddish brown curls from their faces. They were so adorable, he thought, and already so much like their mother. They had grown so much in his absence and he swore that he would never miss such a large part of their lives again.

One of the girls shifted in her sleep and murmured something before opening bleary eyes. She gave him a tiny smile and curled her small hand around his. "Daddy," she whispered.

"Go back to sleep, love." He said softly. "I'll be here when you wake." She nodded, eyelids fluttering shut as she snuggled against her sister and settled into the steady, even breathing of sleep. He tucked the blanket more securely around the children, then his wife curled her arm around his waist and nuzzled the crook of his neck. He held her close and pressed his lips to her temple. This was why he had fought so hard to return, he knew. To see his children grow and to make his wife smile. He had left for their sake, but now that he had the money he needed he would never leave their side. He was home at last and all that mattered in the world was in his arms.

"Welcome home," Natalie murmured. He looked at her for a long moment, wishing he was a poet that could express just how much he loved her, then leaned down to kiss her once more.


End file.
